


The Perfect Fit

by Dirtcore Dreams (NakedEye)



Series: Upon Request [7]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Breeding, Casual Sex, Exhibitionism, Knotting, Mating, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multi, Public Nudity, Public Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-26 00:05:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15651687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NakedEye/pseuds/Dirtcore%20Dreams
Summary: During an alpha's rut they roam the streets, fucking anyone that comes into contact, searching for their mate. Once they find the right person, their knot pops and the union is consummated. The whole town makes it a kind of festival, a welcoming of Spring. Derek doesn't feel much like celebrating.





	The Perfect Fit

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was created for a prompt given to me over on [my tumblr](http://www.drivenbyadevilshunger.tumblr.com). If you'd like to request one of your own, head on over and take a gander at all my works.

Derek’s well known by just about everyone in the Beacon Hills community. He gets shy waves and tittering laughs from many a housewife passing by him in the grocery store. He’s given special discounts at nearly every local restaurant, gets fond  _ hello’s _ and  _ how are you doing’s  _  thrown across lawns at him as he jogs. Hell, even when he’s just filling the gas tank for the Camaro there’s usually another person peeking around the pumps, smiling at him and combing through their hair. 

Thing is, Derek’s not an overly friendly person. He’s not rude, at least not since he got past his teenage angst, but he’s not exactly a joiner in either. Most of these interactions are met with a polite head nod, an excuse that he’s got things to do, an exit as swift as can be managed while trying to stay casual. 

Cuz, Derek isn’t friends with these people. He’s not in book clubs, doesn’t have a plot at the community garden, hasn’t coached the kid’s basketball teams. No, Derek doesn’t know these people because they’re his friends or fond neighbors. Derek’s force to be pleasant and polite because he’s fucked them all. Every last one. 

Every polo shirted uncle that had never done anal. Every mom who thought she was just having a brunch with her college friends. Every sheriff’s deputy and school teacher and definitely every bag boy that he’s ever encountered. He’s not sure what it is about those shitty aprons and canned foods on clearance, but apparently it’s a well known hunting ground of his. 

See, Derek’s an alpha, and he’s unmated. Oldest one this county has ever seen. There’s a running calendar in city hall and he’s pretty sure a secret pool for how long it’s gonna go on. They’ve never seen it before. Nine seasons and he’s not knocked up anybody yet. Nine years of catching unsuspecting citizens on the end of his cock and flashing the rest of the crowd his hairy ass as he fucks their goddamn brains out. 

There’s a goddamn cloud service everyone has access to where they can upload the footage. Dozens of gigabytes of pictures and footage of Derek Hale exclusive porn. That’s what it is, at this point. A very specific spank bank for the whole community. Normally there’d only be a few of those, a couple instances of accidental exhibitionism before it was actually just a lovely gift for the couple— a stamped and dated memory of the inception of their first child. Derek’s just the most famous, most poorly paid adult film actor the world has ever seen, really. 

He can deal with that, it’s honestly a whatever at this point. It happens to every alpha, at least once. Rut comes and they’re insatiable. Once spring hits, it’s no oddity to catch a flash of a naked man roaming the streets, cock hard, skin sweating, as he roams in search of his mate. It’s treated much in the same manner as spotting a hummingbird. Oh look! Isn’t this one beautiful? Don’t get too close, you’ll scare it. 

Except, well, if you get too close he’ll probably just fuck you, and if you don’t want your clothes to be ruined, you’ll adopt summer fashions a little faster than the weather calls for. Cute, comfortable dresses. Nylon shorts with an untied drawstring. There’s not a scrap of underwear to be seen. So, even after they’ve been paired off, it’s no unusual thing to know the general shape of your neighbor’s cock as he’s mowing his lawn, or to not have to guess if a lady’s carpet matches her drapes. 

Nudity, not a big deal. His actual sexual preferences? Slightly bigger deal. The coddling that comes with people speculating he’s gonna be a spinster? Biggest deal. If everyone was just jacking off to how ridiculously fat his balls were, Derek could give less of a shit. But it wasn’t just that. No, no, no. 

It was spreadsheets, it was a board being dedicated to him in the sheriff’s office, it was every rando on the street who he’d probably had his dick in, thinking that entitled them to vomiting unsolicited advice over his shoulder all day long. 

_ You’re quite a hairy fellah, maybe try taming that jungle?  _

_ Roam wider, son! There’s always fresher fields on the horizon.  _

_ There’s this movie called Cinderella, it’s really amazing, you should give it a try. Anyway, there’s this glass slipper in it and I was thinking, what if we just had the whole town line up to try and sit on your dick for a bit?  _

He’s frustrated enough on his own, he really doesn’t need the play by play of how he spends too long going down on people before he plows them, or the knowledge that he’s apparently very into moles, or that framed topographical map of the town he was given with dot clusters of his favorite places to fuck. 

Maybe, just maybe, Derek hasn’t found the right hole for his knot because he’s not found the right person for his heart yet. Crazy idea, but maybe the town hanging streamers and cheering him on, and creating prep and recovery stations on the sidewalk while he’s in his rut doesn’t really rustle up a sense of love and domesticity and contentment in him. 

He’s aware that’s how it’s been done for ages, that it’s worked for everyone else. For Derek it’s gotten him a lifetime’s worth of tale, but he can’t even really remember it besides coming out of the blackness of his heat, naked, strewn across the town square, balls throbbing like he’s been squeezing them for hours and dick stuck to his thigh with so much slick it’s not coming down till he showers. 

Honestly, he’s got his doubts that he’ll be swarmed with butterflies and relief when there’s someone else next to him in the same state. Supposedly once you find your mate, once your knot actually slips in and you breed someone for the first time, it all changes— it’s all worth it. He’s supposed to look into their eyes for the first time, but  _ just know.  _

They’ll already have his child in their belly and he won’t know their name or remember their first time, but there will be recordings of it happening and they’ll just be in love. It’s fucked up, but kinda nice. It would be good to have a partner for all this, to have someone that listens and knows and understands. 

He won’t say he’s not craving it, Derek would be insane not to desire real love. But he’s started having hot flashes at night again. Flowers are blooming and pollen is in the air and the snow has turned to rain. He can feel his knot threatening to pop every time he jerks off and he’s dreaming of burying it deep inside someone. 

The rut is coming again and Derek is so nervous he kind of wants to puke. Age twenty five, year ten, population of Beacon Hills eight thousand. His mate is out there, somewhere. Maybe they’ve just not presented yet. Maybe they’ve been away from home for a while. Maybe they find all this nonsense just as ridiculous as he does, but get to plan vacations for heat season knowing they won’t wander around the resort dicking everything that moves. 

He’s not sure of any of it, but what he does know is that there’s a new opportunity every spring, and one of them is gonna eventually be his lucky year. 


End file.
